Sunday, May 24, 2015

Excerpt: Hope in Every Raindrop

“Small towns have big stories.” That was a lesson Katie’s father taught her years ago. A lesson she’s taken to heart. And right now, Katie is desperate for a big story. Reeling from the recent loss of her father and with her agent breathing down her neck for the next book, the twenty-one-year-old writer picks a spot on the map and finds herself bound for a middle-of-nowhere town called Bishopville, South Carolina.

Taking a chance on the words of a local grocer, Katie stumbles upon a rare breed of dogs raised by the town doctor and his nephew Kyle. The only problem? Kyle isn’t interested in telling stories—especially not to a big-city girl who can’t seem to sit still. In an attempt to win him over as the clock winds down, Katie finds herself immersed in Kyle’s world, doing everything but writing.

When inspiration finally strikes, Katie is faced with an unforeseen catastrophe and a truth she can no longer ignore. While she has come to love the dogs, the real story may be about Kyle Walker.

Katie moved her hands across the cover and binding, feeling the granular canvas cover and depressions that had been created by folding the cover back on itself over time. Her fingers moved slowly, as if she were searching for a trap door or secret chamber that would unlock another world.

She opened the book hesitantly, bending the cover back and angling the pages towards the light that crept in through a crack in the roof.

As she started to read, she heard the barn door creak open.

Shit. Kyle is back.

She slammed the book shut and shoved it into the drawer without thinking, almost knocking the lamp over as she quickly stood. The boards creaked again as she moved across the loft and towards the ladder. Too late, she realized her error.

Was the book inside the drawer, or on the table when I found it? He’s going to kill me.

Katie took the steps two at a time as she nearly slid down the ladder and out of the loft. But when she reached the barn floor, she was alone. The barn door wasn’t open any more than when she’d first arrived, and neither Kyle nor Doc were anywhere in sight. The dogs weren’t stirring, but they were still alert, eyes fixed on her movement.

She brushed some timber debris off her hands and bent over halfway to sweep off her jeans. That’s when she saw him.

Standing just inside the door where his black fur blended in with the morning shadows, was King.

He knew. She could see it in his eyes. But maybe he didn’t care, because once he saw her he came trotting up to her. He opened his mouth and his tongue fell out to the side, panting as he rubbed his shoulder against her leg like a cat.

Katie held her finger up to her lips. “This will be our little secret.”

She turned sideways and slipped back through the barn door the same way she had come in. The rising sun had just peaked the horizon. At the same time that she looked to the east, Kyle came jogging around the corner. Shirtless.

Sweat dripped down his chest and arms. His shoulders were wider than she had realized, accentuated by the v-shaped taper of his torso. His stomach was taut and her eyes followed it down to the line of his jeans, hanging just below his waist.

It occurred to Katie suddenly that maybe Sam wasn’t so far off base after all. Because…wow.

He wasn’t wearing a hat, either. It was the first time she’d seen him without one. His hair was dark brown, almost black. Short on the sides, and just enough to run her fingers through on the top. Katie moved to take a step towards him—except it wasn’t a step at all, because her foot caught on a small rock embedded in a patch of clay and she tripped. She tried to break the fall with her arms, but she had been too distracted to recover quickly enough. As she hit the ground she let out a soft whimper, her shoulder driving hard into the dirt.

"Don't worry, I'm fine," Katie remarked sarcastically as she stood up, brushing herself off for the second time that morning.

Or maybe Sam doesn’t know what the hell she’s talking about.

Wesley Banks was born in 1983 and grew up on the west coast of Florida. He graduated from the University of Florida with a Bachelor’s and Master’s degree in Civil Engineering. After spending over 7 years building movable bridges from Florida to Washington he decided to focus on his true passion: writing.

Wesley recently moved from Florida to Oregon to get back to the great outdoors that he’s love so much. He lives with my wife Lindsey, and his two dogs Linkin and Story. Most of his time these days is spent writing, with as much rock climbing, hiking, or skiing as they can fit in.